The Illusion of Freedom

Alessia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she glared at Damian.

"You said I wouldn’t be watched every second," she accused, her voice laced with frustration.

Damian leaned back in his chair, the very picture of control, as if her outburst was nothing more than mild entertainment. "And you won’t be. But I never said you wouldn’t be protected."

Her blood boiled. "So, what? I’m free to roam as long as your men keep tabs on me?"

His smirk deepened, but his eyes darkened. "You are free, Alessia. But don’t mistake freedom for stupidity.You think I’m going to let you wander around unguarded when there are people who want you dead?"

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that a part of her knew he was right. The night she had been chased through the city still haunted her, and the men who had been after her hadn't just disappeared.

She exhaled sharply. "I can take care of myself."

Damian chuckled, low and dark. "Oh, I don’t doubt that, princess. But taking care of yourself and staying alive in my world? Those are two very different things."

She hated the way his words sent a shiver down her spine. Hated the way his concern, no matter how possessively it was wrapped, unsettled her more than his threats.

"Fine," she muttered. "But I don’t need a babysitter."

Damian’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Not a babysitter, Alessia. A shadow."

Her breath hitched at the way he said her name—like it belonged to him.

The next few days were strange.

Alessia was given the freedom to move around the estate, just as Damian had promised, but no matter where she went, she could feel the presence of his men nearby. Silent. Watchful. A reminder that no matter how big the estate was, it was still a gilded cage.

At first, she tried ignoring them.

Then, when that failed, she tried defying them.

On the third day, she tested her boundaries, slipping past the courtyard and toward the back entrance of the estate.

She had barely made it five steps beyond the gates before a hand clamped around her wrist.

Her heart lurched as she spun around, only to come face to face with Damian himself.

His grip was firm but not painful, his dark eyes burning into hers with something far more dangerous than anger—disappointment.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.

Alessia yanked her wrist free, her breath uneven. "I was just walking."

His jaw tensed. "Walking?"

She swallowed. "I wasn’t trying to escape, if that’s what you’re thinking."

Damian stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "No? Then tell me, princess, what exactly were you trying to do?"

Her heart pounded, but she refused to back down. "I just wanted to see if I could."